Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm

Chapter 18 - 18: A Surprising Invitation
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Chapter 18 - 18: A Surprising Invitation

Chapter 18: A Surprising Invitation

London.

Inside a charming townhouse, a young boy with bright blue eyes gazed at his mother as they conversed in fluent, refined London English.

His gaze held a curious mix of rebellion and tender admirationโ€”an impressive range of emotion, especially for someone so young.

"Perfect!"

Nancy had lost count of how many times she'd said that word. No matter how often she watched, Martin's performances continued to amaze her. He was a natural.

Nancy had a feeling that this film was destined for great successโ€”and that Martin would become a star.

...

While filming in London, Martin felt unexpectedly free without the ever-watchful presence of the Children's Welfare Association.

Though he'd been assigned a local tutor, he often found ways to "sneak off," using his free days to explore the city's sights with his bodyguard in tow.

He wandered through landmarks like the Tower Bridge, St. Paul's Cathedral, the River Thames, Buckingham Palace, and even King's Cross Station.

Of course, Martin wasn't merely sightseeing. He was carefully setting up the inspiration for his next project, the one he intended to become his literary masterpieceโ€”Harry Potter.

...

"Has Martin been behaving lately?" Nancy asked her assistant one afternoon.

Though Nancy was well aware of Martin's escapades, she had chosen to turn a blind eye. He might be a genius, but he was still an eleven-year-old boy, and it was natural for him to want a little adventure.

Here in London, he didn't have the familiar settings or peers to keep him entertained like he did back in L.A. or on the family farm, where he could roam freely.

"I heard he's been writing," the young assistant replied, a subtle hint of admiration flashing in her eyes.

...

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At that moment, Martin was indeed in his hotel room, working tirelessly.

His handwriting was elegant and precise, free of spelling or grammatical errors, since he had memorized every detail of the story. All he needed to do was transcribe it.

He could complete his manuscript directly by hand, no need for a typewriter.

"Another Chapter done!" he murmured, stretching after finishing a page.

Feeling a bit tired, he stepped onto the hotel balcony, gazing at the sunset with a relaxed sigh. Humming softly, he began to sing a tune from his past life.

It was an elven song, pure and haunting, with no lyrics or accompaniment, relying solely on delicate vocal harmonies to express longing for home.

This world was peaceful, free from the ceaseless wars between magical races, the chaos and destruction... he could live here comfortably and without fear, yetโ€”

It wasn't his true home.

A touch of melancholy softened his voice, adding depth to the ethereal melody that drifted into the air.

Upstairs, in the hotel's luxurious presidential suite, a woman with soft golden hair and sea-blue eyes lifted her head.

"Mary, I hear singing. Open the balcony door, would you?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"No... I'm no longer a princess. Call me Ms. Diana."

Mary, her attendant, moved to the balcony door, sliding it open to let the ethereal song fill the room.

Diana closed her eyes, listening. She soon found herself standing at the railing, allowing the music to wash over her.

The gentle melody seemed to cleanse her spirit, releasing emotions she hadn't touched since her divorce last year. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of lightness, a relief from her burdens.

As the song ended, Diana opened her eyes, feeling a sense of longing. Turning to Mary, she said, "Could you find out who that singer is? If possible, I'd like to invite him to join me for dinner."

She hesitated, then waved a hand with a wistful smile. "Actually... never mind. I'm not a princess anymore. Why would anyone want to dine with an ordinary woman like me?"

Mary felt a pang of sympathy. She had been by Diana's side since her youth, nearly three decades. Their relationship was closer to family than that of a mere servant and mistress.

Mary knew everything her lady had enduredโ€”the betrayal, the taunts from her husband's lover, the mysterious loss of her beloved, the criticisms from her in-laws. After years of pain, Diana had finally broken free with her divorce.

How long had it been since she'd seen her lady so relaxed?

Resolved, Mary said firmly, "Miss Diana, I'll see what I can do."

Moments later, Mary returned, a light smile on her face as she approached the eagerly waiting Diana. "Miss Diana, it turns out your name holds more weight than you realize. It doesn't need a 'Princess' title to shine."

Diana's eyes widened. "So... he accepted?"

"Yes. He'll visit this evening and join you for dinner in the rooftop garden restaurant."

"Wonderful! I adored that songโ€”he must be an amazing musician."

Unaware of Mary's subtle amusement, Diana paced around the room, murmuring excitedly to herself. "I should consider what to wear tonight. I wouldn't want to seem rude... maybe that deep violet gown?"

"Mary, do you have any suggestions?"

"Was there anything notable about him when you spoke?"

"Oh, and what is he like? He sounded so young! I wonder if he's as charming as his voice?"

Mary's eyes sparkled with amusement, though she hid it well. She hoped to surprise her mistress, so she offered only a little hint: "He seems very polite, quite young, and... well, he's rather handsome. I think you'll be pleased."

Diana blushed. "I... I didn't mean it like that! I just enjoy his music, that's all."

Mary said nothing, merely smiling.

She loved seeing Diana like thisโ€”delightful, lighthearted, free from the heaviness of recent years.

But she could hardly wait for her mistress to meet this "gentleman." She suspected Diana was in for a surprise.

[๏ปฟ•โ€”โ€”โ€”•โ€”โ€”โ€”•โ€”โ€”โ€”•]

๐™„ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ ๐™š ๐™– ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ข๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™จ ๐™ข๐™ฎ ๐™œ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™™๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ค๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™๐™ค ๐™จ๐™ช๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ ๐™ข๐™š ๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง๐™ฃ๐™š๐™ฎ. ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™ž๐™—๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™จ ๐™ข๐™–๐™ ๐™š ๐™– ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™ก ๐™™๐™ž๐™›๐™›๐™š๐™ง๐™š๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š!

๐—ฆ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—น ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ธ๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ผ:

• ๐™…๐™˜๐Ÿญ๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿฌ๐Ÿฎ

• ๐˜ผ๐™๐™ข๐™–๐™ง๐™ž๐™Ÿ๐™–๐™

• ๐—๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ฏ ๐— ๐—ผ๐—ฒ๐—ฒ

๐—”๐˜€ ๐—ฎ ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ป, ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—น๐—ผ๐—ฐ๐—ธ:

• ๐—˜๐˜…๐—ฐ๐—น๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐—”๐—ฐ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€: ๐™‚๐™š๐™ฉ ๐Ÿญ๐Ÿด๐Ÿฑ+ ๐™–๐™™๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š๐™™ ๐™˜๐™๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™–๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™š ๐™š๐™ก๐™จ๐™š.

• ๐—˜๐˜…๐—ฐ๐—น๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐—ฆ๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜-๐—ข๐˜‚๐˜: ๐™๐™š๐™˜๐™š๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š ๐™– ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™˜๐™ž๐™–๐™ก ๐™จ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™˜๐™๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง ๐™–๐™จ ๐™– ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฃ๐™  ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™ช๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ!

๐—ฌ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐˜€๐˜‚๐—ฝ๐—ฝ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐˜ ๐—ป๐—ผ๐˜ ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—น๐˜† ๐—ณ๐˜‚๐—ฒ๐—น๐˜€ ๐—บ๐˜† ๐—ฐ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ถ๐˜๐˜† ๐—ฏ๐˜‚๐˜ ๐—ฎ๐—น๐˜€๐—ผ ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฝ๐˜€ ๐—บ๐—ฒ ๐—ด๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐˜„ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—บ๐—บ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—ถ๐˜๐˜†. ๐—œ๐—ณ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚'๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ป๐—ผ๐˜ ๐—ฎ ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ป ๐˜†๐—ฒ๐˜, ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ป๐˜€๐—ถ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐—ท๐—ผ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐˜‚๐˜€!

๐Ÿ‘‰ ๐™…๐™ค๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฌ: ๐™ฅ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™š๐™ค๐™ฃ.๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข/๐™‚๐™ค๐™™๐™Š๐™›๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™๐™š๐™ง

๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐˜ผ๐™ก๐™จ๐™ค ๐˜ผ๐™ซ๐™–๐™ž๐™ก๐™–๐™—๐™ก๐™š: ๐™ˆ๐™ฎ ๐˜ผ๐™™๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š๐™™ ๐™๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™‹๐™ง๐™ค๐™ข๐™ฅ๐™ฉ! ๐™๐™ฃ๐™ก๐™ค๐™˜๐™  ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™š๐™ญ๐™˜๐™ก๐™ช๐™จ๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง $30โ€”๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฌ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™– 10% ๐™™๐™ž๐™จ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™ฉ! ๐™…๐™ช๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™ช๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™˜๐™ค๐™™๐™š: ๐—š๐—ข๐——๐—ข๐—™๐—ฅ๐—˜๐—”๐——๐—˜๐—ฅ.

๐™’๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ง ๐™ค๐™› ๐˜พ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ๐™‚๐™‹๐™ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข๐™—๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™ข๐™ฎ ๐˜ผ๐™™๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š๐™™ ๐™๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™‹๐™ง๐™ค๐™ข๐™ฅ๐™ฉ, ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™š๐™›๐™›๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š ๐˜พ๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™š๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ซ๐™š๐™ก๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™€๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™ก๐™ž๐™จ๐™ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™๐™ช๐™ข๐™–๐™ฃ-๐™ก๐™ž๐™ ๐™š ๐™–๐™˜๐™˜๐™ช๐™ง๐™–๐™˜๐™ฎ, ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™ฃ๐™ช๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™™๐™š๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ž๐™ก. ๐™๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™ž๐™ฆ๐™ช๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™™๐™š๐™ก๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™ช๐™ก๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™ž๐™ซ๐™–๐™ก ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™ค๐™›๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™–๐™ก ๐™๐™ช๐™ข๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ง๐™จ, ๐™—๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™–๐™˜๐™˜๐™ช๐™ง๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ง๐™ž๐™š๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š!

๐Ÿ‘‰๐—ฆ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ฝ: ๐™‹๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™š๐™ค๐™ฃ.๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข/๐™‚๐™ค๐™™๐™Š๐™›๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™๐™š๐™ง/๐™Ž๐™๐™ค๐™ฅ

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